Rising Magic

by Tara Lain

  Hillebrand said, “Your testament to your friends is very inspiring. I think, however, it’s time you made some new friends, since your experience at Arcantaria thus far has been disappointing.”

  “Maybe so.” Dash smiled and glanced at Anastasia who raised one eyebrow a fraction.

  Hillebrand pushed on. “So let me tell you about the Olympus Club, where I believe you’ll both find excellent friends among your peers. The best of the best, we might say.”

  Anastasia said, “Sir, it appears that you’re choosing those who are best in each skill set to join this club. In every group, there are always going to be those who finish first, so to speak. But at the same time, everyone brings something unique to the party. I don’t understand why it’s necessary to subdivide the empowered further.”

  Hillebrand nodded and stroked his chin. “A very reasonable question and an impressive one. Many people are simply honored to be singled out as superior. I salute the respect you show your fellows.” He tipped an imaginary hat, then leaned forward with an intent expression. “But imagine that a dear friend of yours has a dreaded disease and the only thing that will cure him is the most refined form of a certain medicine. A granularity so pure that even the substance from which it springs seems gross by comparison. Surely you’d never say we shouldn’t refine the medicine but rather should leave it in its less pure form, not if only that granularity would cure your friend.” He smiled. “Would you?”

  “Well, no, but—”

  Dash speared Hillebrand with his stare. “The question on the table is who’s sick and what’s the disease?”

  Hillebrand sat back in his chair, all hail-fellow. “Ah, now we don’t know that, do we? But imagine a day when wizards might be called upon to protect and defend the magical community. Would you want any less than the very best at the helm?”

  Dash shrugged. “I guess it would depend on who was determining what the best is. I’ve had years of magical training from the very finest teacher, and yet in a crisis, it wasn’t my skills that defeated the enemy. It was an untrained creature with totally different powers.”

  Anastasia gave Dash an interested look. Few members of the magical community knew about his confrontation with Nardo and how Jazz eventually brought down the superwizard. How many of the faculty at Arcantaria knew? Does Hillebrand know?

  Hillebrand went on talking with total confidence. “Yes indeed. That’s why we try to bring in the widest range of talents to the Olympus Club.” He crossed his arms. “But of course no one’s required to join. Feel free to refuse and remain happily among Arcantaria’s rank and file.” His smile had a touch of the supercilious.

  Rank and file? Dash wanted to snort. After being told his whole life in secret whispers that the school was the absolute crème de la crème, now the students were rank and file. Just how elite did their elitism get? And had they been ostracizing him just so he’d want to have new friends?

  He kept his mouth closed.

  Chapter Seven

  ANASTASIA GLANCED at Dash, and he gave her an encouraging nod. She looked at Hillebrand. “Can you tell us about the club, sir?”

  “Of course. Members receive certain benefits, as is the hallmark of most societies. This includes special privileges in curfew hours, dining benefits, private events, and most especially a host of advanced classes designed to hone your unique talents.”

  That perked Anastasia up. She was a whiz in summoning, and the lessons they had together in the subject barely seemed to challenge her. Dash understood that since he felt the same way in conjuring and manifestation. So maybe this club really did fill a need.

  Hillebrand continued, “There are also obligations, including service to the magical community and, of course, secrecy.”

  Anastasia’s smile faded a little.

  Hillebrand said, “If you decide you’d like to be considered for the Olympus Club, you’ll find an application form on the desk in your room. Please fill it out and return it to me at the social hall tomorrow by 8:00 a.m. No later.”

  Dash said, “Not much time to ponder.” He smiled and made an effort not to sound snarky.

  That hint of a supercilious expression crept over Hillebrand’s face again. “Olympus Club is an unparalleled honor, but if it’s not right for you, you should know it immediately. There’s no need for much thought.” He stood. “And, of course, the fact that you apply is no guarantee of acceptance, so don’t worry. If you fill out the form and we, the administrators of the club, know that Olympus Club isn’t for you, we’ll simply refuse your application.” He gave a somewhat formal nod for a pretty laid-back guy. “Thank you both for your time.” He walked away, leaving Dash with half his lunch to finish and Anastasia with virtually all of her salad.

  They both followed Hillebrand’s departure with their gazes. No conjuring himself out of the dining hall at least.

  “Well.” Anastasia sat back and pushed her salad away.

  “Not hungry?”

  “Not really.”

  He grinned at her. “Eat up. I suspect this may be one of the few things we ever get for free from the Olympus Club.”

  She snorted. “Seriously, how do you feel about it, Dash?”

  He frowned. “Not sure.” Might as well stay noncommittal. “Did they use any extreme tactics to test your skills?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Well, you’re so obviously ahead of everyone else in summoning, I don’t imagine they had to.”

  “Thank you.” She gave him a direct stare. “But to be frank, you’re almost as good as I am in that class and way better in most of the others, so I’m not sure what all their big tests of you have been about.”

  “I guess I’ve had quite a chip on my shoulder since I arrived, so maybe it was all about attitude adjustment.” He looked back toward the food line. “Want something for dessert?”

  “We’ll probably have to pay for our own.” She chuckled.

  “My treat. I’ll pick, okay?”

  She flashed a wide smile that lit up her usually serious face. “I love surprises.”

  Dash asked the kitchen to make them both a root beer float and, sure enough, he did have to pay for it. But that was just fine. He carried his prizes back to the table and got an actual giggle from Anastasia. “Oh my gods, I haven’t had one of those since I was little.”

  “Time for both of us.” He took a swig, and the sweet sort of fluffy flavor and texture took him right back to Jazz and Carla and all his friends with vanilla colas, pizza, popcorn, stupid werewolf movies, and the only time in his life he’d ever gotten to enjoy being young. Right before he nearly got killed. Oh well. Crab in every tide pool. He snorted root beer up his nose and coughed.

  Anastasia laughed and handed him a tissue. “Come on, this is too good to waste even a drop. Make sure it goes down your throat.”

  That made him laugh more, but at least he didn’t choke.

  As they finished their floats, it was like they’d called a time-out on serious discussion, but when they’d slurped the last drops from their tall glasses, Anastasia said, “I’ve thought about it, and despite what you say about attitude adjustment, I still think their methods were out of line.”

  He nodded. “I agree.”

  “At the same time, I’m seriously tempted by the advanced training he mentioned.”

  “Likewise. I’ve seen Hillebrand teleport himself from place to place a few times now, and I’m really interested in how he does it.” He carried their empty glasses to the dish-bussing stand, then returned to Anastasia. When he’d settled back on the chair, he said, “I wish I knew someone I could trust who is in the Olympus Club.”

  “I doubt if anyone in the club would say anything negative.”

  “True. But it might be interesting to hear what they think’s good about it—before we join.”

  Anastasia sighed. “I’d feel a lot better if Kitty had been asked to join the club. She’s such a moral and ethical touchstone. It’s like I know if something is okay w
ith Kitty, it’s okay.”

  “So let’s go talk to her.”

  “What?”

  Dash stood. “Where’s Kitty right now?”

  “Doing an herbal lab.” She smiled fondly. “We may want to learn how to poison people. Kitty only wants to heal them.”

  “Let’s find her.” Dash bounded up.

  Anastasia’s eyes widened, then she smiled. “Well, okay.” She stood and took the lead, directing both of them out of the dining room and down one of the other long halls to the double doors of a lab.

  Dash peered in the glass window set in the door. Students bent over beakers and bowls steaming from heat supplied by conjured flames. At a table close to the entrance, Kitty was mashing ingredients in a mortar.

  Dash didn’t wave, but Kitty still looked up and saw him. He pulled Anastasia over so her face showed in the window too.

  Kitty fluttered her fingers at them, then glanced toward the front of the room where an instructor seemed to be acting more as a proctor than an actual teacher. She slid off her stool, walked over, and slipped out the door. “Hi. What a surprise. I thought you’d be asking Professor Hillebrand questions for hours.”

  Dash glanced at Anastasia. Obviously she’d told Kitty where she was going, which was probably good. They didn’t have to start explaining from the big bang.

  Dash said, “We were wanting to ask your opinion of some things whenever you’re done.”

  “Me?” She smiled. “Of course. I can be done now. I’m trying to solve a synthesis problem, but it’s on my own time. I’ll go in and clean up my space. Where shall I meet you?”

  Dash glanced at Anastasia. She said, “How about the social hall?”

  “See you in five.” She disappeared into the lab, and Anastasia and Dash went back to the rotunda, then through the big archway into the social hall, a huge space designed to allow groups of students to meet together since their rooms were too small to change opinions, much less meet in groups.

  Anastasia led them to a table on the edge of the main space but still in the open. Interesting. It was the same table he would have chosen. Sitting there would make them look very innocent and not at all secretive, but it still wouldn’t be easy to eavesdrop on them. Of course Dash could use distance hearing that allowed him to tune in to conversations at considerable remove. Presumably so could a lot of other people in that room.

  A snack bar dispensed coffee, tea, and soft drinks. Dash grabbed three iced teas, stuffed sugar packets in his pocket, and juggled the drinks back to the table. Kitty entered the social hall at that moment, her wavy blond hair bouncing. She saw them and hurried over, tucked into one of the chairs, and accepted the iced tea Dash pushed toward her. As she poured in three packets of sugar, she said, “So I’m dying to know what happened. What can you possibly want my opinion about?”

  Anastasia looked at Dash, so he said, “Before we tell you anything, Kitty, can you tell us what you’ve heard about the Olympus Club?”

  Anastasia nodded. “People always tell you things.”

  “Oh, well.” She took a big swig of her tea. “Let’s see. There’s certainly a lot of whispering about it. No one admits they want to be invited to join it, but I think they all do. Mostly because the people who are in the club are so thrilled with themselves.”

  Dash leaned in. “Do you mean they’re egotistical about it, or they’re thrilled with what they’re getting out of it?”

  “Well, some of each, I guess. A lot of them are pretty snooty about it, but I do hear about amazing lessons.” Her eyes sparkled. “Professor Sharpei mentioned that they do have amazing opportunities to develop mastery in potions.”

  Anastasia put a hand on Kitty’s. “Did he invite you to join?”

  “No.” She took another sip.

  “I guess the question is, would you join if they asked you?” Dash cocked his head at her.

  A small crease appeared in Kitty’s smooth forehead. “I guess I’d have to think about it.”

  “Well, that’s where we are, Kitty. Anastasia and I have to decide what to do.”

  “By tomorrow morning.” Anastasia stared hard at her friend.

  “Oh.”

  For a minute, nobody said anything. Finally Kitty sighed. “I guess I’d say, if I were you, I’d join.”

  Anastasia looked surprised. “Really?”

  “I can’t say I totally approve of the fact that the administration of Arcantaria has created this elitist club, but since they have, I suppose it makes sense to take advantage of it.” She sighed. “We all came here to be better mages. They seem to have assured that the only way to really get the best training is to join their silly club.” She shrugged. “So join.”

  Dash asked, “Has anyone told you why they have the club?”

  “Oh yes. The members love to throw around slogans like the ‘glory of the mage’ and the ‘good of all magery.’”

  “I guess that’s a good thing,” Anastasia said.

  Kitty gave a half grin. “Sounds like bullshit to me.”

  They all laughed, which felt good.

  Anastasia looked at Dash. “I guess we better go see what’s on those application forms.”

  Dash nodded. “Don’t be surprised if they don’t accept me.”

  Anastasia’s eyebrows shot up. “Why? Professor Hillebrand went out of his way to solicit you for the club.”

  “Yeah, but now he knows I have serious doubts about it. Plus they’ve gone even further out of their way to put me in my place since I got here. I can well imagine this being another lesson.” He stood. “Thank you, Kitty. Your opinion’s always valuable.”

  The two women left for their rooms in the ladies’ tower, and he climbed the stairs to his room. Sadly, the staircase didn’t move or reconfigure as he mounted it. Just an ordinary stairway to who knows where.

  Two of the other male students passed him, probably heading for the social hall. One ignored him, but the other gave him a quick glance and a nod. Dash nodded back. Interesting. Was there some grapevine related to the Olympus Club? Maybe that guy knew Dash had been invited.

  Of course even if he joined the club, he might not fit in. Most of the students, male and female, wore suits. Sometimes even ties. Dash wore jeans, sneakers, and a dress shirt. His clothes probably made him look like what he was—the youngest student who’d ever attended the school. Even Lysandra hadn’t been accepted to Arcantaria until she was well into her twenties, and that had been considered extraordinary. At eighteen, Dash set a new bar. The irony was, a year before he would have happily worn a suit every day. But after a summer with Jazz, Carla, Khadija, BeBop, and Fatima, the Superordinary Society, Dash felt more comfortable being casual. It helped make him feel a little like he was back with them.

  Once behind his own door, Dash leaned against it and let his mind turn inward. Jazz’s energy wasn’t as strong as it had been, but it was still there, tingling in his chest like a sparkling vanilla cola. Tears actually leaped to Dash’s eyes, and he sucked a breath in surprise. Of everyone on earth who wasn’t a crier, Dash came up close to the top of the list. Hell, his parents had wrung almost all sentimentality out of him, and Lysandra had finished the job. But what gripped his gut and spread like warm honey from his heart was a sense of profound relief. Jazz hadn’t left him. It was like Dash was behind a huge wall, and Jazz had been beating on the wall ever since Dash left, but Dash was so armored he couldn’t hear him or feel the vibration of his banging against the gates. Now he could.

  Not alone.

  Plus Anastasia and Kitty had chosen to be his friends even though they had every reason not to.

  Gratitude flowed through him like oil, and he sat hard on the edge of his bed. It was incredible to feel something besides pissed off.

  That could change. He leaned over, snagged the piece of paper that lay in the middle of his desk, and pulled it onto his lap. Of course the fact that it was there meant someone had come into his room uninvited. On some level, he knew the administration would have acces
s to all the student rooms, but seeing blatant demonstrations of that power didn’t make him feel at home.

  Maybe Hillebrand had simply manifested the application form on his desk. That idea intrigued him more than he wanted to admit.

  He stared down at the form. I, Dashiell Mercury—they’d filled in his name in a flowing calligraphy—do hereby seek membership in the Olympus Club, recognizing the profound honor bestowed upon me as a designated applicant. I further recognize that application is no guarantee of acceptance, and a refusal of membership may be forthcoming for my own benefit.

  Should I be extended the extraordinary privilege of an invitation to membership, I promise to keep all rights, proceedings, and details of membership absolutely secret except from other duly initiated members. I accept that further agreements will be required upon initiation into membership. Acceptance of those agreements is implied upon completion of this application except under the direst circumstances, and the agreements of secrecy apply with no exceptions.

  Blah, blah, blah. The form went on extolling the honors and benefits of membership. What came across was “Open your trap about the secrets of the Olympus Club and you are dead.” Hmm. Do they mean that literally?

  Chapter Eight

  JAZZ PACED the length of Lysandra’s living room, stared out the window at the city traffic but didn’t see Lysandra’s car, then turned and retraced his steps. It felt like he’d been waiting a hundred years. He’d arrived at Lysandra’s the previous day and told her he wanted to go to Arcantaria, then spent an eternal night with his family, trying not to chew his fingernails. Now he wore out the floor while she consulted the magic powers.

  “Jazz, you might as well sit down and relax. MagiCouncil meetings can take days sometimes.”

  Jazz stared at Berengaria, Lysandra’s assistant, with her tall, thin form, short black hair, and glowing eyes. He said, “I haven’t got days. If I don’t figure out what I’m supposed to be doing in this world, I better go back to Yale and study economics.” He flopped on the couch, although Lysandra’s elegantly decorated townhome didn’t exactly call for flopping.